Bill Posters Will Be Procecuted
by Striped-Tie
Summary: Some days you should just really take the time out to look at all of those posters you see everywhere. You never know, you might find something to help you find that someone.


A/N; I was walking home yesterday from my friend's place and after look at some of the posters on the windows by the vets I wanted to write this. It didn't at all strike me as a Jill and Chris fic. I guess it's kinda nice to take a breather.

I really wanted to finish this one quickly but… Eh, it proved hard. I realised how much I hate saying what people are wearing, even if it is occasionally quite relevant. So please excuse all suckiness for everything I write when it comes to that.

I believe it's a given that a lot of things in this don't time out with the game, but hey.

I'll start working on my other stories soon… I swear.

Resident evil belongs to Capcom.

* * *

**Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted**

_ Take the time to  
look at the fine details._

Sunny days were often active and full of bustle – And a day such as that was never ignored in Raccoon City. Down in the less business orientated parts of town; cars sped down the well populated streets, all eager to arrive at their destinations. Work, Shopping, little gets outs to have fun in the city. Whatever happened to be on the minds of the drivers was also on the mind of about twenty other people in the large district.

Down the end of Raccoon City, there were a number of things that attracted people to it. Cafes, Small Businesses, a rather cosy park being just a few of those things. However, the most noticeable thing happened to be the large shopping plaza.

The walls down the shopping centre were littered in pieces of paper – All stacked over one another in a desperate attempt to grab the attention of those passing by. Some were simply black and white with various shades, while some were in full colour. Some were big and some were small, from A5 pamphlets to large A2 and A1 posters for different events or sales.

Although some had been torn by various shop attendees or battered by the window, most had been hastily placed back up within a few hours. Even with the large sign next to the wall stating '**Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted**', no-one appeared to heed this warning.

A hand wearily traced under a line of text, eyes reading over the smaller details. An annoyed murmur soon followed, the fingers curling around the edge of the paper and tearing it down.

A young man with red hair scrunched up the paper tightly in his hands before throwing it into the gutter, not caring much for those around him. "The damn thing happened two weeks ago. It shouldn't still be up."

"Take a chill pill, it's not like we actually give a damn about what's going on."

One of the young man's peers had laughed at his actions, crossing his arms before looking back at the wall. He studied a few large letters that were now visible due to the absence of the poster, but dismissed the minimal information he could gain from it.

"I just think this is stupid." The redhead shrugged, before roughly pushing fringe from his eyes. He tossed a glance over to the group collected around the posters, giving a frown of disapproval. "What're you doing roping me into this, Adrian?"

The lad referred to just laughed again, shaking his head in a mocking response. "Ah Steve-o, you're just saying that because you haven't gotten any bites yet." He flattened his palm out against the wall, pattering a poster firmly as he spoke. "These are our tickets to the chicks, I'm telling ya man!"

A boy a bit older than both, dressed in a yellow and red jersey put his arm over Steve's shoulder, gesturing to the same poster with his opposite hand. "Don't start doubting us just yet boy! Poster surfing's how we got most of our lady friends!"

"Load of buuuulll." Steve sang dully, shrugging out of the older boy's hold and slinking back over to take a look at the papers once more. Crossing his arms, he made it clear that he wasn't buying it in the slightest.

The concept was simple. Go to the wall and wait for people to come by and look at the posters. The most common ones that resided on that wall were band posters – Once a girl was looking at it for long enough, one could assume it was one she was fond of. With that in mind, one could easily go over to inquire about this, strike up a conversation and be on their way. With a new number if all went to plan.

It all sounded far too easy to him. So little strings attached, and far too much luck involved. He would say that he could be doing more important things, but the chances of that were slim to be kind. He always left his homework to last minute, while he was usually forbidden from popular get together, and his game consoles needed a good rest.

"Don't you think, Kal…" Steve had only taken a glance to the side, seeing merely the back of his friend Kaleb who was contently running down to the lower part of the wall, seeing a young lass staring rather intently at a certain poster. Steve hissed a low 'Tsst' and shook his head. He glanced at the opposite side of the wall, expecting no real luck.

However, down the footpath, in front of the continuing line of posters stood a young woman.

Despite the sunny weather she was wearing something that Steve had seen by one of the near by stores that didn't seem to fit quite well with the given temperature. A cream coloured dress of sorts, but the long sleeves and turtleneck gave it more of a winter appearance rather than a day in the middle of summer. The heavier look material it made from, holding a sort of knitted appearance didn't help at all.

Of course, he could assume that those black stockings evened things out more than a pair of shorts or trousers would. He had to put in a surprising deal off effort to tear his gaze away from her legs.

She was familiar, in a sense – She looked like someone that Steve had seen on the street one or two times, perhaps at the traffic lights. He remembered a time where it was either her, or someone eerily similar, that had had a hard time determining the hair colour of - A strange mixture between red and brown, and too hard to pin in different lights. Regardless, never a word had passed between them before, and he felt a prang of courage from seeing her apparently so…

"Chick's on her own." Steve felt the firm shove from another one of his friends, Trent, forcing him to take step forward. Steve grunted as a simple statement of 'fuck off', before taking a few hesitate steps.

The young woman had just turned as he stepped beside her, about to tap her on the shoulder. She gave him barely a glance, stepping off to the side before he could even speak.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush." She apologized quickly, before walking hurriedly off past him. He turned on his heel, watching her slip right past until she turned the corner.

Steve couldn't remember a time when his ego had been shattered any faster. "A rush? Why would you stand looking at posters if you're in a rush…?" He mumbled rather bitterly to himself. He could hear the others laughing at his failed attempted, leaving him with the only option to look up at the posters in an effort to drown them out.

There were some advertisements for concerts mainly populating where she had been standing. Scanning over them, he couldn't help but frown. He didn't reckonize any of the band names, which would have made it hard to talk to her if he had even had managed to get a word in. Something about live performance in a few days at the city square, another promoting a new CD release. It all looked like gibberish. He paused, nothing something the looked far less obnoxious than the musically based prints.

Hidden neatly between the posters was a small, A4 page with an even smaller colour picture and writing on it. Steve plucked the corner of one of the overlapping pages up, just allowing him to read.

'Lost Dog. 3-Year-Old Chesapeake Bay Retriever. Responds to the name Jukebox.'

The picture was of a large brown dog, happily sitting in what looked like the opposite park. It seemed content enough, smiling the ways dog do in the direction of the camera that had taken the photo. The text went on.

'Last seen 18th of July in Peacock Garden around 4pm. Jukebox has a heart condition and needs weekly medication. We love him dearly. Please call…'

Steve's eyes wondered over the mobile number present, shaking his head at the thought of a sad owner searching through the garden for their ill dog. It was the 22nd that day, and he hopped that the dog had been given medication shortly before it had gone walkabouts.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, taking out his phone and clicking over a few buttons, shifting through menus. After a few moments he raised it in front of the poster, a flash illuminating it for a second before he slipped the device back into its hiding spot.

"The heck are you there?"

Steve looked to his left, seeing The Jersey wearing Ethan looking at him with the dumbest look her had ever seen plastered on his face.

"Taking a photo, what do you think?" Steve asked, refraining from cracking a joke about Ethan's lack of intelligence, "Don't want to forget that dog any time soon. If I see it running around like a mad thing, I want to have the number to call on hand."

Ethan nudged Steve to the side, taking a glance at the poster. Scanning it up and down, he chuckled loudly and gestured to it to the others, who eventually strolled over out of curiosity.

Kaleb, having returned from his little expedition, cocked an eyebrow. "Jukebox? That's the most retarded name for a dog I've ever heard!" He snorted, the other guys following in chorus. Steve probably would have joined in, but know the slight urgency the plea of the poster held made him hold back from doing so.

"It's not that bad of a name, I've heard stupider." Steve stated, only earning a laugh from Adrian. He felt like he was being mocked a great degree that day.

"Says the guy who named his dog 'Peanut'."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that name." Steve stated, crossing his arms while defending his dog… As lame as the poor thing's name was. If it had been a show dog, its name would have been Peanut Butter Jelly Jar, so he was positive Peanut could have been deemed with a far worse title.

"Yeah. Everyone just laughs at him."

"He's a Corgi – People laugh at him anyway." Steve simply chuckled in reply. "He's a short, pudgey little bastard that doesn't even know how stupid he looks! And he's so happy about it, what's not to love?"

"His name!" The other guys chimed, and Steve couldn't help but join in. He shook his head after the laughter had subsided, waving his hand as he turned away from them.

"Whatever guys. I'm gonna call it a day. If you fellas need me, I'll be in the park." He stated, only leaving himself open for another jarring.

"Aw, turned down once and he's already running off with his tail between his legs!" Adrian laughed, earning the bird as Steve trudged across the road, forgetting to look either side and nearly getting nipped by a passing car.

He walked through past the densely crowded flowed beds, his gaze directed at the ground. There was a certain spot in this one park that he knew of, just a nice cosy little spot that was fun to sit at. Of course, nothing good comes without effort.

A trek down one of the often walked paths, dash over some of the tulips, climb over a fence---

The rest of the steps were shaken from his mind as he himself ended up being very much shaken physically. Something large had run in front of him, but not at a fast enough speed for Steve to avoid tripping over the large brute. A loud yelp rang out, and Steve quickly managed to get up and look at its source. A brown tail ragged in his direction, as whatever it was quickly got up as well, bounding off the way it had been heading.

Steve's eyes widened as he noticed its wavy fur, and the slight hint of a curl near the end of the tail.

"Son of a gun… You gotta be kidding me." He mouthed quickly, staring at what looked like a male Chesapeake Bay Retriever. "It can't be…?!"

He quickly took a few steps after the dog, before cupping his hounds around his mouth. He probably had only one chance at this at he knew it, "Hey, Jukebox!!"

The mess of chocolate fur froze, one front paw raised above the ground. It quickly swirled around, staring right back at Steve. Its tail began to wag, as the dog barked loudly and basically launched itself back towards Steve.

In quite a feat, the large canine knocked Steve off of his feet for a second time. It only gave the young man a few seconds to get to his feet before starting to jump around, circling him and nipping at his heels.

Steve had to shake his leg as the apparently named dog Jukebox got holdo f his pants leg, tugging at it happily as if it were merely a game of tug-of-war.

Even for its breed, Jukebox seeming amazingly friendly. Jumping, bounding, nearly knocking Steve off of his feet. No-one would have ever been able to guess that the young canine had a likely serious health problem.

As Jukebox settled down for just moment, Steve took this time to kneel down and inspect the collar around his neck. He ran his thumb over the bright tag attached to it, flipping it over and frowning. The name 'Jukebox' wasn't displayed, but rather had 'Freddy' carved into it.

This wasn't right.

He grabbed 'Jukebox's sides, turning him to face away. The dog obviously thought of it as a game, and did nothing in protest. Steve couldn't help but marvel at how calm the dog was to boot.

"Hey, Freddy!" He chimed loudly. The dog's ears didn't even twitch, and instead the dog just continued to stare off at something in the distance. "Freddy?"

Steve repeated the name a few more times, each time receiving no form of reply what so ever. "Hey, Jukebox." The dog quickly turned, breaking out of Steve's grip and proceeded to tackle the boy to the ground, barking and yipping at the call of its name.

Trying to push both Jukebox's head away from his face, Steve had another close look at the tag. It was new, brand new, maybe only attached to Jukebox's collar for two or three days. But it now made sense.

Shoving the dog off of him, he sat up and slinking one arm over the canine's back while it continued to try and lick his face from the position. Clearly, someone had seen the dog while it was away from its owner, become quite fond of it and decided to hell with its original home. He grabbed his phone, and with great difficulty navigated to the photo he had taken.

"Freddy!"

Steve looked up. He saw no-one, but the name was soon called again. "Shit…" Steve quickly staggered onto his feet, causing Jukebox to leap up and nearly knock him over again. "Down boy, we've gotta go!"

He quickly grabbed the back of the dog's collar and did his best to run away from the direction of the voice, off towards the street. Seeming satisfied after gaining some distance, and rather being lead on by Jukebox since had lost his grip, he collapsed onto the ground and once again tried to memorize the number.

Juke box wondered over as he did this, sniffing the young man's back and pawing him a few times.

Steve dully dialed numbers into his phone, opening that he wasn't calling some sort of burley truck driver by mistake. It rang once, twice, and finally it picked up.

'Hello?'

"… Hi." Steve greeted second guessing himself for a moment. "Is this the person who lost a dog named Jukebox?"

'Y.. Yes!'

"I think I might have found him. I'm with a dog that looks a lot like him at the corner of Peacock Park, the one closest to the shopping plaza's entrance." He explained. He heard nothing but breathing for a few seconds, before the person on the other line spoke up again.

'A, alright! I'll be there in a few minutes! Please, don't go anywhere!'

Steve was given no time to reply before the dialtone rang, telling him that whomever had answered had no hung up on him, most likely rushing from wherever they were.

"A few minutes?" He mumbled quietly, sitting up. They must have been surprisingly close to the area – Were they shopping across the street or something? Either way, he was quite happy that very little time would be spent waiting. In the pit of his stomach, he was afraid that 'Freddy's owner would find him and be on the war path.

As if feeling himself in relation to Steve's thoughts, Jukebox barked loudly, nearly making Steve jump out of his skin.

"Shush! You're going to get us caught!" Steve hissed, making a grab for the dog. Jukebox simply jumped back and barked again, excited by both the attention and yet another new game. "Stand still!"

Many failed grabs passed, and many more barks were echoed before Steve eventually wrestled the dog to the ground in an attempt to grab the dog's muzzle and clamp it shut until his owner arrived. Keeping down a 35 Kilogram dog was not an easy task, and Steve practically had to sit on him to keep him down.

"What the in the world are you doing to Jukebox?!"

_Busted._

Steve quickly looked up, a clear expression of both surprise and panic on his face. He froze, while Jukebox continued to squirm. He feared the dognapper's appearance. … Wait.

Jukebox? The voice, although feminine like the one calling earlier, had a different pitch. A dead give away that it wasn't the same person, despite the fact that it sound terribly familiar. That, and the fact that Jukebox had been said instead of Freddy. And to boot, the leash she held in her hand looked like it had no chance of matching the collar Jukebox was wearing.

He actually took the time to realise who he was looking at. White, Black, and that browny red colour he couldn't place. Jukebox managed to wiggle his way out from under Steve, seeing the opportunity. He basically bounded towards the young woman only a few metres in front of them, tackling her with his side.

She seemed used to such a greeting, having steadied herself to make sure she couldn't be knocked over. Completely ignoring Steve and his shocked state, she yelled, or rather cheered some things that he couldn't translate. But because of how it sounded, and how the woman's body language spoke, it was clear that whatever they were happened to be things of joy. At least until she herself froze.

The young woman seemed hesitate for a few moments. She kneeled down, crossing her arms in front of her and looking at the dog sternly for a moment. She must have been having the same doubts Steve had about the dog's identity.

"Pray, Boy." She commanded quietly but sternly. Upon hearing that, Jukebox sat on his hind legs, placing both of his front paws on the woman's arms, resting his nose on them. There was a silence for a few seconds as the pup looked up at his apparent master. "Amen, boy."

Jukebox's paws dropped to the ground. He stood up and barked loudly, tail wagging about a mile an hour.

"Oh thank god, it _is_ you!!" The woman wrapped her arms around Jukebox's neck, hugging him tightly. Steve sighed quietly in relief, comforted by the fact that he'd done the right thing after all.

He raised his hand forward, taking a step closer so he could speak to her, but stopped. He could hear her crying into the dog's wavy fur. He felt somewhat awkward watching, but at least he knew she hadn't lied on the poster – She clearly adored her dog.

As if feeling his hesitance, the woman looked up at him, wiping at tear away from her eye. She stood up, not at all feeling embarrassed by her actions as most others might. She bowed her head and sniffled slightly before looking at him.

"Thank you, so much…" She choked, falling to her knees again to be eye level with her companion. It looked as if she was never going to let him out of her sight again. Steve merely managed to squeak a quiet 'you're welcome', trying once again to gather some form of courage to continue.

"… Uhm. Listen." Steve began, looking off rather sheepishly this time. He glanced back at her from the corner of his eye, seeing her look up from her canine friend for a moment, though with her arms once again wrapped around its dark brown fur. "I was wondering… If you're going to take him to the vet, would I be able to tag along?"

He noticed the puzzled look on her face as she took the question into her mind. He shuffled his foot, kicking up just little bit of dirt before looking at her properly. "You know. 'Cause I wanna make sure he's okay, too."

He breathed deeply, nearly kicking himself for the question that was going to follow. "Then, uh… If everything's fine, do you think I could take you out for a hot chocolate or something like that?"

She nodded once the statement was made, and again with a red tinge across her already flushed cheeks with the second proposal. She quickly attached the clip of the leash to Jukebox's collar and stood up. Jukebox in turn took this as a chance to run around her legs, before back around a few times while avoiding tying up his poor owner.

She extended her hand, and Steve was all too happy to take hold and give a shake in return.

"Claire Redfield." She introduced herself before Steve could take his turn. She cocked her head to the side and offered a warm smile that made her gratitude clear. "And who would you be, Mr. Knight in Shining Armour?"

His own smile was somewhat awkward, still unsure of how to communicate to the woman who appeared fond of him now. "Ur, Steve… Steve Burnside." He paused for just a second.

"But Mr. Knight's fine by me."


End file.
